Phantom Nightmare
by Thunderstorm101
Summary: Vlad is up to his old tricks again and Amity Park is suspiciously lacking in the vengeful spirit department. Can Danny sit back, relax, and enjoy his vacation, or will his bad luck prove true in Sam's suspicion that all is not as it seems.
1. Chapter 1

(A/N)

Believe it or not (not that it's hard to check) this is my first Danny Phantom fanfiction. Or, maybe I should say "phanfiction". No, I don't think I will. That's just corny. I don't have much to say, but I've always found that I enjoy reading about how people came up with their stories. Also, credit should be given where it was due.

First of all, I was skimming through the internet, bored silly, when my sister told me that I should read a fic called _Mount Ivory_. If you've never heard of it, OK. If you've read it, know this: _Phantom Nightmare_ is nothing like _Mount Ivory_. If you're curious now, I recommend reading it.

My odd brain took what I read in _Mount Ivory_, drove me to read similar stories, and this eventually led me to the Goddess of Angst—Cordria. I love her work. It's impossible to grasp all of the little nuances without thinking hard for a good five minutes after every chapter and reading the story thrice. Anyway, I was under her influence when I wrote the outline for this story.

There…I think that's all I felt the need to say before the first chapter. All that's left is the disclaimer.

Danny Phantom is not mine. If you sue me, nothing much will happen—I'm just a high school student, you won't get anything from me.

_Chapter the First_

Sighing happily, Danny back-flopped into bed, smiling at the day's lack of homework and silently thanking Technus 2.0 for blowing up the computer lab before anything could be assigned as he absently made his feet intangible so his shoes and socks fell to his cluttered bedroom floor. _'I know I shouldn't be happy that the Master of Long-Winded Introductions exploded the computer lab, but an evacuated Casper High means that _I_ don't have any homework. Maybe I can catch up on my sleep tonight and—'_ his thoughts were cut off by a sudden chill that ran down his spine, causing an involuntary gasp and the coldness of it, and when Danny released the air that had cooled as it entered his lungs, a plume of unnatural mist rose from his mouth. _'And then again, maybe not.'_

"Whoever's prowling around had _better_ be ready to get their butt kicked. I was just getting comfortable, too!" he grumbled aloud as he leapt to his feet, reaching into the core of his being for the cold power that had been there since his accident almost a year to the day ago, expression nor determination wavering as a cascade of icy power washed through him, turning human flesh and blood to ghostly ectoplasmic slime, transforming "ordinary" teen Danny Fenton from human to spirit, replacing faded blue jeans, white T-shirt, and bare feed with black and white jumpsuit and white boots. Black hair faded to white and lively blue eyes became a supernatural, glowing green.

Danny stretched slightly before flying through the NASA poster covered wall of his room, leaving behind glow-in-the-dark stars and suspended model rockets to perform his self-appointed duty as guardian of Amity Park—Danny Phantom was flying out to another fight above the streets of his hometown.

"Hey, it's the Ghost Zone's lamest hunter! Skulker, I'm surprised you got your suit back together so fast after that beating I gave you last week!" he exclaimed upon sighting his enemy.

"For your information, whelp, I am always prepared for the possible event of loosing a suit," the ghost in mechanical battle-armor replied. Skulker's "face", while set into a permanent skeletal grin, seemed to be smugger than usual. The malevolent spirit's flaming green hair whipped about in a nonexistent wind as he contemplated his prey.

"What's the matter, tiny? Finally realized that your hype isn't as accurate as you'd like it to be?" the ethereal teen taunted, firing a weak ectoblast at the intruder.

"Not at all, whelp," the self proclaimed "great" hunter chuckled, effortlessly dodging the attack. "I just don't see any point in correcting a creature that will, shortly, no longer be in any position to know anything."

"Yeah, yeah. You're going to kill me, skin me, and put my pelt at the foot of your bed. Never going to happen and, uh, ew? That is _really_ nasty." With this dismissal, Danny narrowed his eyes and charged twin blasts in his hands, charging forward to attack. He never noticed Skulker smirk as he dodged, and adrenalin prevented him from noticing the faint pricking sensation as a needle touched home through his jumpsuit.

"Too slow, ghost child!" the hunter taunted, hypodermic retreating back into his armor. _'There's no way the whelp can win, Plasmius told me that the substance would bring about Phantom's fall…no matter what the child does to try to stop it.'_ However, Skulker had paused for thought for too long, and Danny easily caught him in a Fenton Thermos.

"Now who's too slow? Heh…I didn't even take one hit!" the C student gloated happily. "Man," he continued with a yawn, "fights like this one aren't usually so exhausting, but I'm really tired! Maybe this is that 'sleep deprivation' thing Jazz was going on about. Guess I'll just hit the sack, then, and catch some Zs."

Lazily, he drifted back through his bedroom window, stashing the thermos underneath his bed, where no sane (or quasi-sane) individual would dare to look for anything without a native guide, rubber gloves, and a protective mask. Having effectively hid his weapon of choice, Danny returned to human form and rubbed his now blue eyes. The only son of two of the world's most prominent ghost researchers stretched, yawned again, and slowly removed his shirt and peeled off his jeans, leaving him in the boxers his father had given to him for his last birthday—ugly black things with stylized ghosts and the word "Fenton" on them. Pulling on his equally embarrassing ghost pajamas, the controversial hero formerly known as Inviso-bill snuggled under his bedclothes and was asleep in moments.

Maddie Fenton, widely considered (according to the latest newspaper poll) the most competent ghost hunter in Amity park, smiled to herself as she checked on her youngest child. _'He's sleeping like a baby. Must have had a long day wearing himself out with his friends, since the school had to be evacuated because of that ghost attack. What a pity that Phantom had already taken care of it by the time Jack and I got there…even more of a pity that he'd left before we arrived, that ghost has been around for almost a year now, and I still don't know what makes him tick! Poor Danny…he's so convinced that Phantom is good. He'll be crushed when that odd manifestation of ectoplasmic slime and post-human consciousness shows his true colors.'_

"Sleep tight, Danny, and I'll be sure to keep the ghosts away," she whispered as she turned away from his room to run a few last-minute scans to make certain everything was well. "After all," she continued, shaking her head, "for the son of two ghost hunters, you certainly seem to be terrified of the supernatural."

(A/N)

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The second will be up—eventually. I like this story. I know everything that's going to happen, of course, but I like it. Please review, I like to read the reviews that people give to me, and if you have a problem with my writing style (or the fic) let me know.

Flames will be heeded. Nonsense will be flamed. Use bad grammar at your own peril. Oh, and compliments are never nonsense.


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N)

I'm back!

I still don't own Danny Phantom, but that's OK. I own this plotline, and I own the plotlines running around in my head.

Enter the Nightmare

_Chapter the Second_

Phantom Nightmare

Danny smiled to himself as he drifted mindlessly in that place between sleep and wakefulness. He felt as though he were floating weightlessly (and he was in a position to be familiar with that particular sensation) in a cozy, warm abyss with nothing there to bother him.

It was all horribly shattered when an intruder ripped his nice, warm, soft blanket away from him, and the intruder shouted "Up and at 'em, Danny! It's a bright, sunny day and the school's open, so let's go, go, go! Tim to rise, shine, and greet the day, little brother!" Even this, Danny could have ignored in favor of his floating, peaceful place of nothingness where _everything_ was nice and calm and there was no stress, but his sister punctuated every word with a firm shake.

"'M up, 'm up, go 'way, Jazz," he slurred, glaring at the orange blur he knew to be his sibling's hair. As he came more awake, the indistinct blur dissolved into a teenage girl, a few years older than Danny, with long orange hair and a soft blue headband. She also wore a slight scowl.

"OK, Danny, but if you're not ready in half an hour, I'm going to assume you went back to bed."

"As if I _could_. Now get _out_!"

After the departure of his loud, meddlesome sibling, Danny set about shucking his pajamas and tossing on the cleanest looking T-shirt and jeans combination from the floor. He pulled on a pair of socks grabbed at random and his battered sneakers. A few quick motions with a comb and a snatched backpack later, the teenage half ghost was ready to go downstairs and brave his mother's cooking.

"Good morning, Mom," he called out, entering what looked like a cross between a normal kitchen and a mad scientist's workshop. On the tile counter beside the coffeemaker laid a currently unidentifiable, half finished gadget filled with colorful wires and glowing green tubes. Bacon and eggs sizzled merrily on a stovetop, but the cheerful woman tending them wore a blue hazmat suit under her frilly apron.

"Good morning, sweetie," the woman in the hazmat suit smiled. "You're up early! I hope you want eggs and bacon. If you'd like some orange juice, it's in the fridge between the contaminated ectoplasmic samples and the fudge."

"Thanks," Danny sighed, mentally steeling himself for the risk he would be taking by reaching into the refrigerator. After taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door, prepared to leap to either side the moment something so much as twitched on its own power.

The contents of the fridge were as mundane as the rest of the kitchen. There were bacon, eggs, milk, a pan of fudge, and a carton of orange juice sharing space with glowing green tubes and mysterious beakers. There were also several lumpy shapes wrapped in tinfoil. It was these that Danny watched carefully as he eased the orange juice out of the refrigerator. _'The last thing I need to do now is wake up the mystery meat. Careful…careful…got it!'_

Smiling, the teen closed the door and put the juice carton on the table. When his mother handed him a plate heaped with breakfast, he wolfed it down and nearly quaffed his glass of juice before grabbing his bag and bolting out the door with a hasty "Bye, Mom! Gotta go now!"

The Nightmare Continues

After running all the way to Casper High, Danny amazed staff and students alike (at least, those staff and students that were aware of his reputation) by making it to his first period English class with Mr. Lancer on time. In fact, he was just dropping into his seat when the tardy bell rang and the balding, overweight, out of shape, middle-aged teacher got up and closed the door.

"Very well," the biased instructor sneered as he turned around, "who shall I mark absent until proven tardy today? Apparently _not_ Mr. Fenton. Tell me, Mr. Fenton, are you turning over a new leaf this year, or was being on time today a fluke?"

"Probably a fluke, Mr. Lancer," Danny sighed. Near constant ghost attacks almost always made him late to class.

"Still, the fact remains that you are here." So saying, Lancer went on to call roll, and then began the lesson. Amazingly, Danny was able to pay attention instead of falling asleep like he normally did in class.

'_Wow. I never thought getting a good night's sleep would help this much at school! Maybe I should do that more often…'_

The Nightmare Continues

After school, Danny was mildly concerned.

"Hey, guys," he said to get the attention of his two best friends, Sam, the vegan Goth with half-pony tail, plaid skirt, purple lipstick, and combat boots, and Tucker, the carnivorous techno geek with red hat, rectangular glasses, and geek wear. "Don't you think it's a little odd that there haven't been any ghost attacks today?"

"Now that you mention it, that is a little weird," Sam mused. "Do you think they're up to something?"

"Yeah, nothing good ever happens when ghosts stop attacking Amity Park. It's the calm before the storm," Tucker shuddered.

"You're right. I guess we'll just have to be on guard for paranormal threats. Now, I have to get home and write that essay Lancer assigned. No telling when whatever disaster's in the works will go down, and I want to be able to turn it in when it's due in three weeks."

The Nightmare Worsens

(A/N)

While I could continue, I don't feel like it. The chapter would wind up…twice as long as the last one, and about as long as previous chapters in my other fics…

Yeah…truth is, I'm just not feeling very inspired today. Go figure.

As before, criticism is welcome, flames will be heeded, nonsense will be flamed, and compliments are never nonsense.


	3. Chapter 3

(A/N)

I'm sorry if this isn't up to par. I wrote the whole thing last minute—in other words, I got lazy and forgot to write any of it during the week. Sorry again.

Oh, and Danny Phantom _still_ isn't mine…don't know why anyone might think it is, considering…

Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to Soulcat56 for the reasons given in the second author's note at the end of the chapter.

_Where oh where do my liine breaks go?_

**Chapter the Third**

_Oh where, oh where could they be?_

Cheerfully, Danny jogged up to his eccentric looking home. He opened the door and stepped inside softly, trying not to alert his father to his presence. _'Quiet steps, quiet steps, not a ghost, but a mouse. Mice aren't interesting…ghosts get ripped apart molecule by molecule…'_ After all, the last thing any semi-serious student needed was—

—A day-glow orange mountain of spandex, excitement, and what happens to any large boned middle-aged man that eats fudge, lots and lots of fudge charged out of the kitchen, grinning like a child that has just done something praise-worthy and knows it.

"Guess what, Danny!" Jack shouted, radiating cheer from his boots to his graying, squarish head.

"Er…you've just finished a potentially dangerous invention and are going to compromise my health by demonstrating it to me?" The half ghost cringed at the thought of how these conversations usually go.

"You're right! I _did_ finish a new invention! And if you want me to demonstrate, I'd be happy to!"

"Ah, no, Dad, I don't want you to show it to me…" but no amount of polite action could stop Jack Fenton when he was on a roll.

"C'mon, son, you really have to see my latest invention!" Jack boomed, pulling his unlucky offspring into the kitchen to see whatever it was he'd made _this_ time. "This," the ghost hunter cried, indicating an object that looked like it contained the remains of the toaster, the _normal_ microwave (leaving the ecto-microwave as the sole surviving microwave, at least until someone bought a new one), a television, and Jazz's new hair drier, among other things that probably came from the lab. "This, Danny m'boy, is the Fenton Ghost Griper ™! It's every scheming ghost's worst nightmare!"

"And why is that?" Danny asked, actually showing interest. _'If this thing works, like so many of their inventions unfortunately do, maybe I can use it when whatever the ghosts are planning goes down.'_

"Simple, son! The Fenton Ghost Griper ™, when activated, seeks out ghostly plots and disrupts them! You see, everything a ghost does is related to that ghost's specific energy signature, and by scrambling the energy, the Ghost Griper ™ makes absolutely certain that whatever it is that the ghost did doesn't do what the ghost made the thing it did to do!"

"Yeah, real simple," the overwhelmed teen muttered, holding his spinning head.

"Maybe you'd get it better if I demonstrated it. I mean, if there's no ghostly meddling around the place, it'll just say so!"

Before the bulky hunter could press the on button, however, Maddie rushed up from the basement, alerted to what her husband was probably about to do by all the shouting and mentions of the Fenton Ghost Griper ™.

"Jack, wait!" she gasped, taking the stairs two at a time. "The Ghost Griper hasn't been calibrated yet! If it detects some kind of ectoplasmic meddling, there's no telling what could happen! It could explode, it might not do anything, it could work—"

"It works? Great!"

Before anyone could do anything to stop him, Jack had pressed the on button.

"This is the Fenton Ghost Griper ™. Scanning…scanning…scanning…ghostly meddling detected." A calm, computerized voice droned.

Danny shivered as pins and needles tingled up and down his body, feeling like they were stabbing into the very depths of his being, prickling and making him feel odd without actually hurting. Before he could open his mouth to say something, though, the Ghost Griper ™ exploded, coating the room in disgusting green goop.

"Yeah, it works just great, Dad. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a shower to take and homework to do," the boy scowled before stomping up the stairs to the bathroom.

_They separate sections of chapters_

After showering the slime out of his hair and starting the essay for Lancer's class, Danny hurried downstairs for dinner. He could smell pot roast, without a hint of ectoplasmic contamination.

Just before he could set foot in the kitchen and make his presence known, a familiar chill traversed his body, drastically cooling the air in his lungs. As supernatural mist floated out of his mouth, Amity's local half ghost sighed. _'Great, with my luck, it's Skulker, and I'll miss dinner.'_

"Goin' ghost," he muttered before a flash of energy transformed him into the local spook. Before he could set off any of the ghost detectors in the kitchen, Phantom hurriedly made himself invisible and intangible, flying out through the wall to confront whatever foolish spirit had decided to make him miss his dinner.

"Beware, for I am the BOX GHOST, master of all things _cardboard and square_!" a doofy voice shouted. "This time, Phantom, your _cylindrical_ container of DOOM shall not capture me, for I have found the perfect way to _defeat you_!"

The green eyed ghost stared blandly at the short specter in front of him. Plump, overalls and beanie wearing arm waving Box Ghost.

"Dude, you couldn't defeat me if I blindfolded myself and tied one arm behind my back."

"All this is true. However, _you_ cannot defeat ME if you cannot _catch_ me! So…catch me if you can!" the Box Ghost called over his shoulder, flying away as fast as possible.

"Oh, you, you've _got_ to be kidding me!" Phantom groaned. _'There's no way I'm getting home in time for dinner now. I'll be lucky if there's anything left for me to eat later.'_ Quickly, the white haired ghost gave chase to the considerably less powerful ectoplasmic manifestation.

_And make reading easy_

Five hours later, an exhausted ghost fazed through an upper story window of Fenton Works and transformed into an even more exhausted teenager.

"Man, I can't believe the Box Ghost's big plan was to fly around with me chasing him until we ran into Valerie! Then he got away and I had to track him down after I escaped from her…where the hell does she keep getting those new weapons, anyway?"

After he tossed on the first pair of pajamas he saw on the floor, Danny collapsed into bed, falling immediately into a deep sleep. Unfortunately for him, it was hardly to be a dreamless one.

_Oh where, oh where could they be?_

(A/N)

I haven't done anything resembling a cliffhanger, have I? Oh, well.

It has come to my attention that while four people reviewed chapter one, only one person reviewed chapter two.

Thank you, Soulcat56, for being my only _loyal_ reviewer thus far. You get an honorable mention in my author's note (that we both know no one will actually read) and the guarantee that I'm going to read through (and probably review) any and all of your stuff that catches my interest.

I also present to you an imaginary helmet to protect your head from overwhelming tides of plot-bunnies (or flamers. Some flamers go for the head, you know.) and the promise that if you PM me with writer's block, I will send you metaphorical TNT to blow it up along with a plot bunny to push the trigger.

Thank you once again for reviewing the first two chapters.


	4. Chapter 4

(A/N)

Ha ha! I'm still here and updating! Take _that_, AP English Language homework! I still have the time and inclination to write fanfiction, even with your evil workload of DOOM, Mr. "Thanksgiving is coming so let's give the students a lot of homework to do"!

Nine page essay. Second draft is due November 19, 2007. Today is November 18, 2007. Fun.

I apologize for not getting it up yesterday, I was sidetracked (I know, I know, I hate it when people do that, too).

Also, I would like to dedicate this chapter to pearl84, because I forgot to mention her story _Checkmate_ during my chapter one shout out.

As always, I do not own Danny Phantom.

_Thisisalinebreak_

**Chapter the Fourth**

_Thisisalinebreak_

"Ah, Maddie, this is the life!" a certain villainous fruit loop sighed to the white, longhaired cat lounging on his lap. The long fingers of his right hand gently rubbed behind her ears as his left hand lifted up to brush a stray strand of white hair back into his ponytail. Eyes accented by the heavy bags under them and the heavier brows over them closed in contemplation as a sinister smile slowly formed itself upon his aristocratic face.

"Mmrp?" Maddie chirped, flicking an ear and the tip of her tail in what could be taken as a show of interest. The cat stood and stretched in the billionaire's lap, circling around before settling down in a somewhat more comfortable position after rubbing herself all over the front of his black silk suit.

"I know, I know. It is perfect, isn't it? Thanks to my latest creation, it won't be long at all before young Daniel realizes that the life he's living isn't anything like the life he deserves to live and comes running to me looking for an improvement. And then you'll have someone else to rub on, won't you, Maddie?

"You are an odd creature, aren't you? Heh," he chuckled, looking down on the dozing cat in his lap, "you adore me for some reason, but you won't have anything to do with ghosts. Pity that all of my employees are deceased, but hey, it's cheaper than hiring humans, and you seem to be happy as long as there's _one_ warm lap for you to sit in."

Smiling at the prospect of his perfect half ghost son coming to him, Vladimir "Vlad" Masters leaned back into his patent leather couch with one hand on his softly purring cat and closed his eyes.

"Pumpkin, you have twenty minutes before the important meeting. If you don't leave soon, you won't be able to make it on time in the limo," a faintly blurred holographic version of Maddie Fenton informed him, floating in mid air with a blank, mindless smile on her face, purple eyes staring at her master with pre-programmed love.

"Ah, of course, Maddie, I'll just," Vlad paused, looking down at the sleeping cat in his lap. Slowly, he lifted her up and set her to the side, trying not to wake her up.

"Well, then, I'll be going…" he paused again, looking down at the numerous white cat hairs speckling his expensive black silk suit. With a sigh, he turned himself intangible, dropping a small pile of white fur on the ground.

"Right, now I'll be going to that meeting! Maddie, am I presentable?" he asked the holographic woman floating in the middle of the room, awaiting further orders.

"Your hair is a mess, master," she smiled sweetly. "You look like you didn't brush it today."

"Right, right," the man muttered, hurriedly removing and re-doing his ponytail. "How about now?"

"You look great, sugar! The meeting begins in fifteen minutes. Oh, and may I remind you that the building the meeting is held in is surrounded by the latest in anti-ecto technology? Also, news reports indicate massive gridlock. If you leave now, the limo can get you there ten minutes after the meeting is scheduled to begin."

"Butter biscuits!" a despairing voice called out as the soon to be late rich man adjusted his tie and dropped down through the floor so that he wouldn't have to bother with running down the stairs (there were no elevators in his mansion) to get to the first floor to get to his limo.

_Thisisalinebreak_

(A/N)

Yes, that's right, it's a filler chapter! Aren't I evil? The whole point of it was…actually, I want you to guess. If you guess right, I'll tell you that you guessed right. If you guess wrong…I'll tell you that you guessed wrong, and I might even give you the answer.

Oh, and pearl84, if you're reading this and you didn't already, please read the author's note at the top of the page.

Also, I apologize for the short chapter, but I'm following an outline, and when it seems like an appropriate place to stop, I stop.


	5. Chapter 5

(A/N)

You all have my sincerest apologies for forgetting to write this over the weekend. Say it with me now: "D'oh!"

As a more tangible apology than simply saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I'm going to try to make this chapter actually LONG. The chapters in this fic have been record-length short for me, anyway. There's really very little embellishment, but that's because I already planned the whole thing out…I'm not sure if it's turning out good or not. And now I've missed my self-appointed deadline…

I feel like such a looser.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed me in the last chapter, and because I like to do it, I have. If you want a response (and possibly a dedication—I like to dedicate chapters to people who's reviews I like, or who got me thinking) review the fic.

I will not withhold updates because of lack of reviews. All that happens when you review is I feel warm and fuzzy, and I say thank you. It will not speed my updates. It will not slow my updates. It will not do anything at all to my updates (though your suggestions and criticisms will be heeded).

I still don't own Danny Phantom, and I probably never will.

_I'm still at a loss for line breaks_

**Chapter the Fifth**

_Yup, the site don't cooperate_

Danny whimpered softly. His bed was not behaving as it usually did. The blankets that were supposed to be soft and comfortable and warm were, well, still soft and comfortable and warm, but not as soft and comfortable and warm as they should be. Usually, this was a sign that he was waking up on his own, a thing that should never happen before noon.

Sitting up, the young half ghost opened his eyes and looked around his room. It was…clean? The floor was clear of clutter, carpet showing properly. Everything had been dusted, and the ghost hunting equipment that he kept hidden around the place was in plain view, neatly laid out where he could grab it in a hurry. On his dresser were a Fenton Thermos, a spare Fenton Thermos, and several ecto guns.

"What's going on?" he wondered aloud.

"Do you like it, son?" boomed the exuberant voice of his father as the speaker kicked the door in, grinning from ear to ear. "You were sleeping so soundly, I just decided to clean your room up for you! Who would have thought that you'd have so much ghost hunting equipment around here? Though I did take some of it down to the lab to be recalibrated. Why did you have the Ghost Gabber and the Fenton Finder under your bed? They don't work! They always activate around you! And you're not a ghost, right son? Right!"

"Uh, yeah, Dad. I'm not a ghost," Danny replied, beginning to feel more and more nervous. _'Why did Dad clean my room, and where's mom? Usually, she comes running when she hears Dad kick down a door, and she doesn't leave him unsupervised often…'_

"That's right! In fact, that's what I just said! C'mon, Danny m'boy, let's get some breakfast. We can have fudge!" At the prospect of eating fudge for breakfast, the orange-clad mountain that is Jack Fenton bounded down the stairs with the energy and light footedness of a man half his age and one quarter of his weight. All this would be fine and good in his son's opinion if the man hadn't grabbed him by the arm and dragged him with him.

"Ah! Dad, I can walk by myself!"

"But, Danny, walking's way too slow! We can get to the fudge faster this way!"

After Jack dragged his son down the stairs and into the kitchen, which was suspiciously devoid of half finished inventions, he plopped the boy down in a chair and got two heaping plates of fudge out of the refrigerator.

"Here you go, son! Fudge for breakfast! That's what _real_ ghost hunters eat! And speaking of ghost hunting, you hunt ghosts, don't you? Of course you do! That's what all that ghost hunting stuff in your room is for! But what I want to know is how come you never told me? I could have given you pointers! And how come I've never seen you around?" As he questioned his son, the older hunter sprayed spittle and bits of fudge across the table. He also leaned forward, nearly upsetting his plate.

Partly so that he wouldn't slip into a nervous gesture and partly to buy time to think up an answer to his father's question, Danny picked up a piece of fudge and inspected it. It looked like fudge, it felt like fudge, but it didn't smell like anything. In fact, now that he thought of it, there was no smell at all in the kitchen. That struck him as a little on the odd side, but he couldn't say anything, because knowing his luck it was because of one of his father's inventions. Noticing that his father was staring at him, Danny took a bite of the fudge, before promptly spitting it out. Disgusting! It tasted like muddy ashes!

"Hey, you're not my son!" Jack shouted, suddenly angry. The man in the orange HAZMAT suit leapt to his feet and pulled a huge ecto cannon out of seemingly nowhere.

"Yes, I am!" Danny leapt to his feet equally fast. If his father was going to shoot at him, he wanted to be able to dodge to the side.

"No, you're a ghost, pretending to be my son! That fudge was specially treated to taste like muddy ashes to ghosts, and you spat it out! No son of mine wouldn't like the taste of fudge, so you must be a glob of putrid ectoplasmic slime pretending to be my son!" By this time, Jack was scowling in a particularly frightening way. Gone was the goofy, happy go lucky man that was considered to be a joke by ghosts and ghost hunters alike.

"Dad, wait! I can explain!" Danny was beginning to feel a little panicky.

"What's to explain? Why you replaced my son? Show your true colors, ghost!"

"True colors? What's to show? I'm Danny!"

"No you're not! Danny isn't a ghost!"

"I'm your son, and I can prove it!"

"Then prove it. Wait, how are you going to prove it?" as he pondered how Danny was going to prove his identity, Jack's goofy expression returned.

"The Fenton Genetic Lock. Only a Fenton can open it, remember? So if I'm your son, I'll be able to activate it."

"OK, that'll solve everything. Hey, and since the Genetic Lock's in the basement, when you prove yourself wrong, I'll be able to dissect you right away!" the ghost hunter beamed.

Shaking his head, the half ghost led the way into the basement of Fenton Works. Stepping into the laboratory, he barely paused to glance around at the cluttered benches and tables, the metal walls, the arch on the far side of the room that was closed off by steel doors, or the rack of HAZMAT suits on one wall. Instead, he headed straight for the control panel with the Fenton Genetic Lock on it, a pad that was keyed in to Fenton DNA and could only be operated by a member of the family.

"I wasn't lying," he said to his father before pressing his thumb to the pad. The steel doors slid aside, revealing a glowing portal of swirling greens set into the wall. A faint mist, unnoticed by Danny, floated out of the portal and into the lab, swirling around the ankles of the two ghost hunters. Quickly, before some pesky spirit could take advantage of the open Portal, the teen pressed his thumb to the lock again, closing the doors and cutting off the eerie green light, though not the faint mist that covered the floor.

"Very well, I will accept that you are a Fenton. But why did the fudge taste bad to you? And you still haven't explained why you had—" Jack's questions were cut off by a beeping sound. Spinning around, he picked up the ghost detector that had finally decided to pick up on his son's ectoplasmic signature. "Hey, Danny, this thing says you're a ghost!"

"Dad, all of your stuff says I'm a ghost. It has since I started high school." The nervous teen said in a calm and reasonable tone.

"Yeah, but this one only points at ghosts that don't look like ghosts! Did you die and not tell us?" The man stared at his only son with a suspicious expression.

"Yes. Yes, I did," Danny smiled nervously, one hand coming up behind his head in a nervous tic that he was barely conscious of.

"But…how? And why didn't you say anything?" Jack lowered both cannon and currently unnamed ghost detector.

"Do you remember when the Ghost Portal turned on?"

"Yes, yes I do! It was a great day in the life of me, Jack Fenton! I suppose all it needed to do was sit a while!"

"Uh, actually, you forgot to turn it on. After you and Mom left, I…I went into the portal, and…"

"And? And what, Danny boy?"

"Well, it, it was dark in there, so I put my hand on the wall to stop myself from walking into anything, and…and there was a—a _click_, and…"

"And? Go on, don't just stop there!" The man was hopping about in excitement now, obviously overjoyed to find out how the Ghost Portal, which he often referred to as his greatest invention, really activated.

"What happens if you turn on a ghost portal and someone is standing inside?" Danny asked his father, choosing to answer a question with a question.

"Well, I suppose the person inside would be electrocuted to death rather painfully, becoming a ghost, and…oh. But you don't _look_ like a ghost! Though there are some ghosts that can appear as they did before they died, I suppose that those are the ghosts that remember their lives, and…oh, I get it! But you _must_ have a ghostly form, too! I wanna see it!"

Smiling at his father's exuberance, Danny gave in to the puppy dog eyes.

"Well, I don't see why not." Then, he closed his eyes to better feel that chill rush of pure power as his body transformed, cell by cell, into sentient green slime. Upon hearing a gasp, Phantom opened his eyes and looked over at his father. The human was shocked, but not for long.

"You, you're! How dare you! I knew ghosts were evil, to think! My own son, a ghost, pretending that nothing had actually happened while he snuck out at all hours of the day and night, skipping class, even running out during dinner to destroy property and terrorize people! Well, you'll rue the day you died, you putrid pile of ectoplasmic goo! At least this way, we know the truth, and we can have a funeral," so saying, and glaring at his adversary, Jack Fenton, ghost hunter extraordinaire, seized the nearest weapon, the five foot long cannon he had put down earlier in his excitement, aimed, and fired at wide, frightened green eyes.

_Why does the site always delete my line breaks?_

(A/N)

So, good? Bad? Short? Long? Please, please don't say it's still too short for you. This is my extra-long apology chapter, because I missed my self-appointed deadline for when these things have to be up.

I'd love to know what you think of my work.


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N)

I seem to be getting into a bad habit here. This is the second time _in a row_ that I've gone and forgotten to update on schedule.

In case you didn't know, which you probably don't because this is the first I've said of it, my goal is to update every Sunday until the fic is done.

Last week, I was lazy. Yesterday, I was too busy playing a new game my sister found. If you're interested in finding out what could have possibly delayed me like this, go to sryth dot com and remember that _aquawyrm_ sent you.

It's a totally addictive fantasy rpg. I love it!

Right, well, I still don't own Danny Phantom.

Kudos to uula and mutantlover09 for figuring it out and actually saying it with some measure of certainty, you two get _Phantom Nightmare_ T-shirts. No, I'm not going to say what they figured out. If you want to know, read their reviews for chapter five. It's not hard.

Also, AvatarKatara38 gets a cookie for coming close. Next time, show a little more certainty, OK?

I don't have anyone to dedicate this chapter to, because, while I like flattery, it doesn't help me get anywhere. I enjoyed reading all of your reviews, and the complements were especially fun. All seven reviewers were great!

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Sixth**

_Phantom Nightmare_

"Yeeeaaaaah!" Danny screamed, bolting upright only to find himself tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. After fighting his bedding for a moment, the half ghost realized that intangibility was, indeed, an option.

After freeing himself from his blankets, the young man attempted to quiet his harsh breathing. It took what seemed like an eternity to progress from near hyperventilation to mere shuddering breaths. "It was just a dream, only a dream," he muttered under his breath, glancing over at his alarm clock.

2: 13

"Way too early," he grumbled to himself, though the words sounded hollow. "That was the worst nightmare I've had in ages. I thought I was over those."

Shaking his head, the young Fenton remade his bed and attempted to get back to sleep. Counting ghost sheep failed miserably, because every time he got to ten or so an image of his father glaring at him and holding a glowing ecto cannon would leap into his mind, tormenting him, so that he was still trying to get back to sleep when his alarm rang.

_Brrr! Brrr! Brrr!_

Listlessly, the teen rose from his bed and turned it off. Then he opened the door, intercepting his sister.

"Jazz, I'm up already. Go away," he grumbled.

"Danny, are you feeling alright? You _never_ get up without prompting, unless—" her eyes widened in realization. "Was it Skulker again? Or maybe the Crate Creep led you into an ambush with the Red Huntress? Whoever it was, they ran you ragged. You look awful. If you want, I can tell Mom and Dad that you're sick so you can stay at home today."

"Ah, no, I'm fine. Really! Just fine! I can go to school, Jazz, I'm not a baby!" Danny cut off when he realized that he was starting to babble, but just the thought of being home all day with his parents doting on him…and his father making sure that he wasn't ill because of some ghost…surrounded by ghost detecting equipment…no. _'That's the last thing I need. I'll just go to school, keep myself busy, and forget all about that stupid dream.'_

Rushing back into his room, Danny actually took some care in donning clean clothes, actually going so far as to wear an outfit that Sam had bought for him, with black jeans and a long sleeved black T. There was also a spiked collar to wear with it, but he didn't want to go that far; there were enough rumors about him and Sam already. After dressing and running a comb through his hair, noticing as he looked in the mirror that yes, he did look like hell warmed over with the dark bags under his eyes and his pasty pale skin.

"Huh. Maybe I shouldn't have worn black today," he mused. "I look like I'm undead or something." Then he grinned. "Technically, though, I _am_ undead. Heh. Undead, noun, the state of being neither dead nor alive, but both." There was a pause in which his face donned a look of minor horror. "I've been spending too much time with Jazz," he decided.

Chuckling to himself, both for the realization that he had found a classification that he fit in properly and because he really had been spending too much time with his sister, Danny descended the stairs to the kitchen.

Jack was sitting at the table, hunched of the Ghost Griper, while Maddie was frying eggs in one pan and heating ecto samples in another. It was a testament to the absentmindedness of the Fenton matriarch that she was using the same spatula to prod at both.

"Good morning, sweetie," she cooed upon spotting her son.

"Hey, Danny, you're up early! Finally get a good night's sleep, son?" Jack boomed cheerfully.

"Y-yeah, something like that," the boy stuttered, the mental image of his father's jovial expression morphing into pure hatred in an instant swimming to the surface. "Um…I'm not really hungry this morning. I'll just go to school early, maybe get a little studying done before class," he hurriedly said to his parents as he sidled out the door.

"Good idea, son! And if you see a ghost on the way to school, call me!" the Fenton patriarch called after the retreating backpack.

_Phantom Nightmare_

Shaking his head to clear the remaining cobwebs of the nightmare from his mind, Danny hurried to Tucker's house, on the basis that they could walk to school together.

_Dingdong_, he rang the doorbell.

"Yes?" Mrs. Foley asked, opening the door and looking out. "Oh, Danny, what are you doing here? And so early?"

"I got up early and thought I could head to school with Tucker."

"That's a pretty good idea. Tucker! Danny's here!"

"What?" a voice from within the house called out. "Hang on, I'll be right there!" This was followed by several crashes and thumps as, as could be inferred from his normal behavior, Tucker attempted to put electronics in his backpack and get his pants on at the same time.

The dark skinned boy with the yellow shirt and the red beret rushed out of the house on one foot, pulling on his left shoe as he hopped. "So, Danny, why are you here so early? It's only 7:25, you're usually still in bed around now," Tucker panted breathlessly.

"Oh, I just felt like getting up early, that's all," the pale boy replied with a shrug, beginning to walk toward Casper High.

"And what's with your clothing, man? You look like you're undead or something."

"I felt like wearing something different, that's all."

"Dude, have you been brainwashed by some evil ghost?"

"No, I just felt like a change."

"Are you _sure_?" Tucker asked, leaning in close with narrowed eyes, halting all forward movement in the middle of the sidewalk.

"What color are my eyes?"

"Blue."

"And have they ever been anything other then red when I was possessed?"

"No, but that doesn't mean we might not have an inventive ghost on our hands."

"Tuck, it's fine. I just decided to wash my clothes, and all I had left was the stuff Sam gave me."

"Oh, oh! _I_ see how it is!" the dark skinned boy gloated with a knowing look on his face.

"See how what is? What are you talking about?" the clueless one asked, radiating innocence.

"Clueless," Tucker shook his head, smiling.

_Phantom Nightmare_

At school, it became increasingly obvious that Daniel Fenton was not well. At first, teachers and students alike assumed that the reason he looked paler than usual was the contrast between his face and his shirt, after all, they were used to seeing him in white.

However, when fourth period English rolled around, it was apparent to one Lester Lancer that his most irritating, irresponsible student was even worse off than usual. After all, under ordinary circumstances, Mr. Fenton at least _tried_ to _look_ as though he were paying attention. On this particular day, though, he was sleeping soundly.

"Mr. Fenton!" Lancer tried to use volume alone to wake his low-achieving student. "Mr. Fenton! You were not this tired yesterday, and you usually make an attempt when you've been pulling an all night gaming session with your friends…however, that is obviously not the case, as both Mr. Foley and Miss. Manson are wide awake. I do not particularly care what you were up to last night, so _WAKE UP_!"

Unfortunately, the student only started slightly before drifting off again.

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

And, regretfully, despite my preparations, despite my shields and weapons, I have succumbed to writer's block. For now.

I'll see you next week when, hopefully, I'll have hacked my way through it and freed the trapped plot bunny within.


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N)

Well, I do seem to be on time this week. Yay.

Also, Nylah (who used to be uula) came fairly close to what is actually going to happen. For that, she gets…um…well, mentioned in the author's note, for one thing. Also, I present her with an imaginary ceramic humming bird for good informed guesswork.

Congratulations, Nylah!

I still don't own Danny Phantom, or any of the characters from the show. Seriously. I own the plot line (and the sole and solitary OC in this fic. Anyone who can spot my one OC before it becomes blatantly obvious will have a chapter dedicated to him or her).

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Seventh**

_Phantom Nightmare_

After a particularly sleepy day at school, Danny dragged himself home in a stupor.

"I don't get it," he moaned to Sam and Tucker. "I was drifting in and out of sleep all day, why am I still so tired?"

"Don't worry about it, Danny," the Goth smiled, "just try and get a good night's sleep tonight."

"Yeah, man," the techno geek chipped in, "let your parents handle the ghosts for a night. You won't be any good to anyone if you kill yourself from lack of sleep or something!" His cheerful demeanor was dropped the moment he noticed his friends glaring at him, though, and the grin dropped from Tucker's face. "Aw, what's the matter, guys? Can't take a joke or something?"

"It's a bad time for joking around, Tuck, and that wasn't funny," the half ghost sighed. "Look, guys, here's my house, and my dad's been trying to fix something that exploded into goop the other day, so I don't think you should come in."

"Yeah, Danny. As great a friend as you are, I don't want to be covered in goop by your family if I can avoid it," Sam said, shaking her head. "Green is not my color, and slime is not my thing."

"You said it!" Danny laughed, walking through the ordinary looking door under the bright neon "Fenton Works" sign. "I'm home!" he called out to anyone that might be listening.

"Oh, Danny, you're back from school. You should get your homework done before something else happens; Mom and Dad were called across town to catch some ghost in an old warehouse and won't be back until morning. There's a plate of sandwiches on the table for you, so you can eat in your room while you work. It's more time-efficient this way, so you can get more done between ghost attacks and won't have to stop for dinner," a perky voice called down from upstairs.

"Thanks, Jazz!" he shouted back. The teen hurried into the kitchen, grabbing the plate of sandwiches that sat between two half-finished anti-ghost inventions, looking out of place.

After grabbing his dinner, Danny walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his own bedroom, where he sat on his bed, ate a few sandwiches, and relaxed before starting his homework.

Unfortunately, grade improvement seemed to be delayed yet again when his ghost sense chilled his body, and a telltale puff of ethereal mist floated from his mouth.

"Great," he grumbled. "Goin' ghost!" And with his usual battle cry, Phantom stood in the youngest Fenton's bedroom, pausing only to use his homework as a bookmark in the textbook and grab a thermos from under his bed before flying out through the wall.

Once he'd flown out into the night air, it didn't take long for the green eyed specter to find what had interrupted him while he was doing his homework. Three large green vultures wearing fezzes and glowing softly against the dark night sky hovered just outside of what used to be the range of his ghost sense.

"Hey, featherbrains! Don't you know I'm a growing boy?" he called over to them, flying closer and powering up a couple of ecto blasts in preparation for the near inevitable fight ahead of him.

"Oh, great!" one of the vultures groaned. "The boy sensed us!"

"But Lord Plasmius said that he couldn't sense any ghost more than 30 meters away!" another exclaimed in a thick Yiddish accent.

"Like he said, he's a growing boy," the third reminded them, "and Lord Plasmius is using old data. He hasn't collected anything new in months."

"Well," the second began, ruffling his feathers and preparing to fly, "if the child is going through a growth spurt, I want no part of it!"

After this announcement, all three birds flew away in a hurry, apparently in no desire to fight an unknown foe, no matter how many times they had fought him before.

"Great," Phantom muttered to himself. "Vlad's spies are here. That means he must be up to something…I'll have to keep an eye out for anything that could kill Dad and convince Mom that that creep's a good guy," he shook his head, white hair floating about as though it were in water. "This is the last thing I need. Nightmares and Plasmius, there's no way that combination will lead to anything good."

After grumbling to himself, the ghost turned around and flew back into his room. Amazingly enough, after returning to his human form and putting the thermos back under his bed, Danny had enough time to finish his homework.

"Well," he laughed as he climbed into bed, "the good thing about Vlad being up to something is that he scares off all the other ghosts, leaving me free to have a good night's sleep." _'I hope.'_

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

No, I don't have writer's block. That's where the chapter was supposed to end…

And in case you didn't read it, I have a **challenge to my readers** in the author's note at the beginning of the chapter.

And congratulations on the name change, Nylah.


	8. Chapter 8

(A/N)

I'm terribly sorry that it took me so long to update. Between shopping, writer's block, homework, writer's block, painting my grandmother's kitchen, writer's block, visiting my Uncle, writer's block, puking my guts up on Christmas Eve and celebrating Christmas, writer's block, and homework, I've been a bit busy. Did I mention the writer's block?

This chapter gave me such a headache; I wasn't sure in the least how to write the stupid thing. That's what I get for trying to write without a muse, I guess…

I hope you all enjoy it!

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Eighth**

_Phantom Nightmare_

Danny sighed and rolled over in his bed. The covers were soft and comfortable and warm, and to judge by the angle of the sunbeams hitting his face, it was around noon. Lazily, he opened his eyes and watched the dust motes drift and glow in the rays of light coming in through the window. He grinned broadly and stretched, crackling his muscles as he worked the kinks of sleep out of them.

"Ah, I can't believe I woke up feeling refreshed this morning!" he sighed happily, swinging his legs out of bed. Then, he looked around his room and moaned, dropping his head into his hands.

The floor was clean and the carpet had been vacuumed; his ghost hunting equipment was neatly arranged on the top of this dresser; all of the weaponry that had been randomly hidden about the room was now in plain sight and within easy reach in case he wanted to grab it in a hurry.

"No, no, no, no, no…not again. Not this again…I _knew_ it was too good to be true! Why can't I ever have nice, normal, isolated nightmares like other people?" the half ghost whimpered to himself.

"Hey, Danny!" Jack boomed, right on time, "how do you like what I've done with your room? You were sleeping so soundly, I just decided to clean your room up for you! Who would have thought that you'd have so much ghost hunting equipment around here? Though I did take some of it down to the lab to be recalibrated. Why did you have the Ghost Gabber and the Fenton Finder under your bed? They don't work! They always activate around you! And you're not a ghost, right son? Right!"

The teen looked up at his father's exuberant face and suppressed a shiver. _'Things are going exactly the same as in my last dream…no, wait, they're not. The other dream wasn't this realistic…and there was no smell in that one. I can smell now…' _It was true. Not that he was thinking about it, Danny could detect the odors of fudge and ectoplasm, the distinct scent of his father.

"Hey, Danny, you _aren't _a ghost, right? Because you didn't respond to my question, you just sorta sat there and didn't say anything, and some studies show that that's what ghosts do when you confront them about something they've done wrong. Um…oh! I know! I can figure it out over breakfast! We can have fudge!"

A grin now sported on his blocky face, Jack Fenton grabbed his son's arm and pulled the unresisting boy out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. Once again, there were no half finished ghost hunting devices strewn about the place, and Maddie was suspiciously absent. _'It's just the same as my last dream…maybe I should talk to Jazz about this. Recurring nightmare…then again, she'd probably just shove some psychobabble at me about how all this means is that I'm going to drive myself insane over telling Mom and Dad my secret and that I should tell them. If I don't want this to go the same way as the last dream, I'll have to change something. Take charge—if I know it's a dream, it's not as scary. Right.'_

"Hey, Dad, where's Mom?"

"Hmm? What's that, Danny? I was just getting the fudge out!" The large man turned back from the refrigerator where he had been rummaging for the chocolaty treat. Upon taking a deep breath, the half ghost realized that the fudge smelled like muddy ashes, and the remembered taste from his last dream almost made him gag.

"I said, where's Mom? I don't think she'd want us to have fudge for breakfast."

"Oh, she went out shopping with Jazz. Here, have some fudge, Danny! That's what _real_ ghost hunters eat! And speaking of ghost hunting, you hunt ghosts, don't you? Of course you do! That's what all that ghost hunting stuff in your room is for! But what I want to know is how come you never told me? I could have given you pointers! And how come I've never seen you around?" Jack leaned forward, spraying spittle and bits of fudge across the table.

"I, um…I only hunt ghosts when I have to, and you and Mom are busy. Like, if you're across town, looking for the ghost kid at the mall, and something attacks near home. If you're taking care of it, I don't do anything, and, um, no offense, Dad, but I wanted to spare myself one of your ghost-related lectures." The uncomfortable half ghost looked down to hide the nervous expression on his face and toyed with a piece of fudge. It crumbled in his fingers, and the muddy ashes smell it released made it hard to breathe.

"Well, that does make sense. But, Danny, look! You haven't touched your fudge! Eat up, son!"

"Ah, um, I'm not feeling hungry? You can have it all," Danny stuttered, looking up.

"Not hungry? A Fenton? Not hungry? Surely you can have just a little bite of fudge, Danny, it won't do any harm!" the man enthused, leaning forward to study his son intently.

"Well, alright," the teenaged half ghost sighed, steeling his nerve for what he was about to do. _'Right, Fenton, or should I say Phantom? Anyway, it's only fudge that tastes like muddy ashes. All I have to do is put it in my mouth, chew, swallow, and pretend I like it. Not hard, not hard at all.'_ Taking a deep breath, he popped a small bit of fudge into his mouth. Forcing a smile, he chewed and swallowed, somehow managing not to gag or spit. There was something crunchy in it, small, like bits of walnut.

"So, how was the fudge, Danny?"

"Oh, it was pretty good, but like I said, I'm not hungry." It was a true trial of will not to choke or gag while he talked. All that the teenage ghost hunter wanted to do was rush upstairs and brush his teeth to get the taste of muddy ashes out of his mouth. His fierce concentration on the matter prevented him from noticing a faint mist pooling around the floor.

"Glad you liked it, son, glad you liked it. My favorite part was the bits of walnut."

"Yeah, the walnut was OK, I—"

"WHAT DID YOU DO WITH MY SON, GHOST?!? Where is he?"

"Dad, what are you talking about? I _am_ your son." _'Shit. I'll bet it wasn't walnut in there. Wait; what am I worried about, this is just a dream! It's just a stupid recurring nightmare that I'm going to see Jazz about in the morning. It'll be over soon, and I'll wake up screaming, just like before.'_

"There's no way you're Danny. Danny's not a ghost! He's a ghost hunter! As evidenced by all the ghost hunting stuff I found in his room when I cleaned it! There was no walnut in that fudge, it's got puffed rice and currents in it! Not that there was any way for you to tell the difference, _ghost_," he pronounced the word ghost to rhyme with the word scum, "after all, I—"

"Treated the fudge to taste like muddy ashes to ghosts," Danny finished. "Just a pointer, but it smells like it, too, Dad."

"Don't call me 'Dad'! You're just a blob of ectoplasmic goo pretending to be my son!"

"I'll call you Dad if I want to, Dad. Besides, you're just a figment of my imagination in a recurring nightmare. Any minute now, I'm going to wake up in my bed, in my messy room, with all of that ghost hunting equipment where it's supposed to be. Under the bed and in my closet and hidden about the place! So, I'm just going to sit here until I wake up." Smiling, Danny relaxed in the chair. _'Everyone knows you can't get hurt in a dream, so I'll just relax. He can't do anything other than yell at me.'_

"Is that so, ghost? Well then, I guess you won't mind if I do _this_, then!" Jack shouted, pulling out a particularly wicked looking Fenton Machete. Light gleamed along the glowing green blade, and the swirling mist ankle-deep on the kitchen floor drifted away from the enraged ghost hunter.

The man in orange lunged forward, an expression of inhuman hatred etched across his visage, and slashed the blade across his son's upper arm. The boy gasped in unexpected pain, clapping his right hand to the dripping cut, blue eyes wide and surprised as he leapt to his feet, the sound of the chair clattering behind him oddly muffled.

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

Again, I am so sorry that I took so long.

And, as a hint to all of those interested in my little challenge to strain your brains, a hint:

Original Character (OC), noun, a character created by an author for use in a story; in the case of fanfiction, this character is any character not present in the cannon of the original story.

There is an OC in this story, well, sort of an OC. _I_ consider him to be an OC, at least, and I did mean it about dedicating a chapter to the first person to figure out who/what he is. So, read carefully, people, because he's going to start playing a role in the story soon!

Oh, wait, he's _already_ playing a role…you just can't see it yet…or can you?


	9. Chapter 9

(A/N)

Happy New Year, all! This is _not_ a bonus chapter, I repeat, _not_ a bonus chapter. I just want to have a few reviews that say "January 1, 2008" because that seems neat to me. You may also be able to half expect updates on Friday the thirteenth, whenever that may come, and on my birthday.

Yes, if I don't have too much to do, I'll update on my birthday. If I _do_ have too much to do, I may update on my birthday…heh, heh…this way, I can get other people to look forward to January 24. Genius, if I do say so myself, which I do…

Yeah, I stayed up last night. Does it show? Also, I have been consuming sugar in unusually large amounts…and I've reached a vague spot in my outline…

Should I type a chapter off the top of my head while buzzed on sugar? Well, I'm about to, so you can all tell me how it turns out.

Also, the challenge is closed. I'll have to think of another one.

This chapter is dedicated to **Nylah**, because she figured out where my OC is hiding! Though…hiding isn't quite the right word…he can't really do much of anything at the moment.

Oh, and MutantLover09 gets points for originality.

**Nylah** receives an honorable mention and…um…half of a strawberry banana milk shake. Sugar rush! MutantLover09 gets a paper mache PDA to tease techno geeks with.

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Ninth**

_Phantom Nightmare_

"Aaaauuughh!" a scream rent the air as Danny sat bolt upright, panting and covered in sweat for the second time in as many nights. "Ugh," he groaned, "I can't believe I had the same nightmare twice in a row. There wasn't even anything to set if off! And it's not like I'll be able to get back to sleep again."

Sighing, the half ghost glanced at the glowing display of his alarm clock.

3:28

"Great. I might as well wash my face or something and get dressed. Stupid nightmare," he mumbled to himself, rolling out of bed and stumbling into the bathroom. It was not until he was fumbling for the light switch that he noticed the presence of something warm and sticky on his upper left arm.

With a rising sense of dread, Danny flicked the light switch _click_ and the bathroom was illuminated. A glance in the mirror confirmed what he feared…a growing red blotch was spreading down the left sleeve of his pajama top. Not bothering to undo the clasps, the near panicking half ghost simply phased the offending article of clothing off of himself. There, on his left bicep, right where he had been cut in his dream, was a thin slash, such as might be made by a recently sharpened Fenton Machete.

"That…that is _not normal_," he breathed, eyes wide as he stared at the blood dripping down his arm. Then, moving swiftly and efficiently, he turned on the cold water and dipped a washcloth into the stream. As he wiped the blood away from the injury, Danny revealed the usual puffy inflammation that was the norm when he had been hit with a weapon treated with an anti-ecto coating. _'Like all of the Fenton weapons. _Was_ that a dream, or did I black out and he put me back in bed? No, no, my room was messy, but…what's going _on_ here?'_

Shivering from the realization that something incredibly strange was happening, the teen carefully cleaned and bandaged his cut arm.

"I'll have to be careful," he muttered, "if dream Fenton weapons are anything like real Fenton weapons, that's going to heal at a human rate."

_Phantom Nightmare_

When morning came and the rest of the Fenton household awoke, the youngest member of the "famous" ghost hunting family was sitting quietly at the table, ignoring a half eaten bowl of milk logged cheerios and reading an article about the infamous Danny Phantom in the local tabloid.

"Danny, I can't believe you're up early," Jazz called to her brother from the kitchen entrance, unsurprisingly already fully dressed and ready for the day.

"Oh, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep," he called back.

"What happened, little brother?" the psychologist in training gushed as she rushed over to him. "You can answer; Mom and Dad are in the lab working on something and they told me to make sure that you get to school on time, so I don't expect to see them until tomorrow."

"Well, that's a relief," Danny sighed, instantly relaxing. "I had a nightmare."

"A nightmare? What was it about?"

"Dad found out that I'm a ghost and attacked me."

"Danny, I think that you _need _to tell Mom and Dad. You could have another nightmare if you don't!"

"This was the second one, Jazz, and I'll think about it. The nightmares could go away on their own, though."

"Yes, but Danny, there's usually a deeply rooted psychological reason for nightmares, and you really should…"

Leaving his sister to her rant, the town hero quietly snagged his backpack and slipped out the front door to head to school.

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

Again, I'd like to wish you all a happy New Year and good luck in 2008 (if rumors of a recession are true, I think we're all going to need it).

Also, the challenge is done; **Nylah** won. Congratulations, **Nylah**.

All of you, please review, it gives me…ideas…


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N)

Ah, I do seem to have lost track of when where and how to update properly…at least I'm writing another chapter, though!

See, I was a bit distracted by my own misery…a sprained ankle is no laughing matter! I sprained my right ankle rather badly playing Dance Dance Revolution not long after my last update, and have been wallowing in misery ever since. Also, I just couldn't get myself feeling creative with an injury like that…I'm feeling better now, though, so please excuse my tardiness!

I do not own Danny Phantom. I own only my original character…that mist in Danny's dreams (for those of you that don't feel like reading other people's reviews).

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Tenth**

_Phantom Nightmare_

"I can't believe Jazz went off on a rant like that…I'll tell Mom and Dad when I'm good and ready," a white haired, green eyed ghost in a very recognizable and well publicized black jumpsuit muttered under his (optional) breath as he flew straight for Casper High School, possibly the most haunted building in the most haunted town in the United States of America.

Spotting his two friends walking along the sidewalk below him, Danny smirked mischievously and shifted his form out of the visible spectrum.

_Phantom Nightmare_

"I'm just a little worried about Danny," Sam replied to her electronically inclined friend in a defensive tone, "he's been a little distant lately…and he looks like he's getting even less sleep than usual!"

"Uh-huh…" Tucker mumbled, pressing buttons on a beeping PDA as he walked alongside the Goth.

"Are you even listening to me?"

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, Sam…"

"Give me that!" the angry individualist snapped, yanking the device from her companion's hands.

"Hey, what was that for? I was almost to level 58, too…"

"That was for not listening!"

"Oh, right…what were we talking about again?"

"Danny! He's been acting funny!"

"Sam, you worry too much. Maybe ghosts have been attacking at night more, maybe he's going through some sort of ghost puberty, maybe his parents invented some sort of device to stop ghosts from getting their sleep and turn it on at night. Nothing serious."

"Well, maybe you don't worry _enough_, Tucker! What if something's horribly wrong and he hasn't told us because he doesn't want us to worry? What if something's horribly wrong and he hasn't even noticed it yet? What if…" the young woman trailed off and stopped walking as the temperature dropped, a sure sign that a ghost was around.

"What if what, Sam?" the ever oblivious techno geek asked, turning around to cock his head at his friend.

"What if…the guy you're talking about can hear everything you're saying?" Danny's voice came from thin air, and they could almost hear the cocky smirk that was bound to be on his face.

"Danny! What's the matter with you? You started acting funny a couple of days ago, and—"

"And nothing, Sam," the half ghost grinned, becoming visible and returning to human form after checking to make sure that no one was watching. "I'm fine, I've just been having a few nightmares, and I talked to Jazz about them. Nothing's the matter."

"See, Sam? You worry too much," Tucker's grin echoed Danny's as he chimed in. "Now, give me back my PDA and let's all get to school before we're late again."

_Phantom Nightmare_

"Fenton, Foley, Manson! Do you three have any particular reason to be late? A tardy slip, perhaps? Or shall I just put you all in detention…_again_?"

"Man, I _hate_ having Mr. Lancer first period," Tucker groaned.

"No excuses? It's detention, then. I expect to see _all three of you_ after school today, and I _will_ be calling your parents."

"Yes, Mr. Lancer," the trio groaned, before sitting down to a grueling hour of English.

_Phantom Nightmare_

At lunch, the three people lowest on Casper High's student hierarchy sat together, discussing how odd the day had been so far.

"Dude, I can't believe Dash only shoved you in your locker once!" Tucker mumbled around his school-made cheeseburger.

"What _I_ can't believe is that no ghosts have attacked the school today. I haven't seen one since last night—and they ran away when they realized that I'd noticed them," Danny replied after swallowing his rubbery macaroni and cheese.

"What I can't believe is that the two of you are actually eating cafeteria food. That's _disgusting_," Sam cut into the conversation, wrinkling her nose at the greasy trash cafeterias across the country tell teens is food and hastily taking a bite of her tofu salad.

"This is nasty? Just look at what you're eating! _That_ is nasty!" the ever-carnivorous Tucker pointed at the salad.

Danny smiled to himself and ate in silence as he tuned out his friends' ongoing argument.

_Phantom Nightmare_

"I'm home!" the youngest Fenton called out as he walked through the front door of the Fenton household.

"That's great, Danny! Hey, if you're lucky, your mother and I might have a breakthrough to tell you about before you go to bed!" the Fenton patriarch shouted from the basement lab.

"'K, Dad," Danny yelled back.

As he reached the top of the stairs, the sight of an annoyed older sister, complete with crossed arms and tapping foot, greeted the teenaged hero.

"Danny, you need to tell Mom and Dad before you go to bed tonight," Jazz scowled, trying her best to look intimidating.

"I told you, Jazz, I'll tell them when I'm ready, and now is most definitely _not_ the time—they're in the lab, working on something. I'm not going to tell them _now_! I'll wait until they're not so excited. It's not like there's an emergency and I need to tell them or something terrible will happen to me! Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got homework to do."

The amateur psychologist glared at her little brother as he brushed past her and into his bedroom, slamming the door.

_Phantom Nightmare_

After doing his homework, surprisingly without ghostly interruptions, Danny closed his books and put everything away, then headed down to eat dinner with—or without—his family.

'_Why is it almost always with?'_ he wondered, looking at the display his parents made at the kitchen table. His father was tinkering with a half finished tracking device with one hand and eating with the other, while his mother ignored her dinner in favor of calibrating a particularly nasty looking ecto gun.

Danny spent the meal in silence, practically bolting his food before standing up and announcing that he was going to bed, unwilling to spend any more time than absolutely necessary in the presence of his parents (and one or more ecto weapons).

_Phantom Nightmare_

Before going to bed, Danny checked his injury from the night before in the mirror and put fresh bandages on it. It was nearly healed. _'Looks like dream Fenton weapons don't work like real Fenton weapons. Thank goodness! I'll still have to be careful, though…a bad injury, or one in a hard to hide spot, could take a lot of explaining that I _don't_ want to have to do.'_

Sighing, the half ghost pulled on his pajamas and got into bed.

"No nightmares, no nightmares, no nightmares…third time's the charm, right? C'mon, peaceful sleep!"

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

OK, was that long enough for you? I hope it was, because it wrapped up everything I wanted to say in this chapter.

I think everyone knows what's coming in the next chapter…I'm following a very predictable pattern here!

Does anyone care to guess at what'll happen next? Correct predictions about the future will get you virtual prizes and a warm fuzzy feeling! Or, at least, _I_ always get a warm fuzzy feeling when someone mentions me…is that just me?


	11. Chapter 11

(A/N)

I'm terribly sorry about not updating sooner! See, first I sprained my _other_ ankle (playing DDR), and then my sister found this fun new game, so I was playing that, and _then_ my English teacher assigned this essay, so I was all side-tracked, and then I lost the notebook I kept all my notes on the fic in…

Er…

You don't really care, do you?

Yeah, I know, "excuses are like assholes, everybody has one and they all stink."

I think my dad picked that saying up in the Marine Corps.

I still do not own Danny Phantom…if I did, there would be more episodes out by now.

_Phantom Nightmare_

**Chapter the Eleventh**

_Phantom Nightmare_

Danny sighed and rolled over in his bed. The covers were soft and comfortable and warm, and to judge by the angle of the sunbeams hitting his face, it was around noon. Lazily, he opened his eyes and watched the dust motes drift and glow in the rays of light coming in through the window. Sighing, the young ghost hunter closed his eyes again.

"It's a school day," he said. "It's supposed to be a school day today. As I was going to bed last night, I was thinking about how awful Lancer's class would be in the morning if I had another nightmare." _'I might as well get it over with…'_

Blue eyes opened to observe the youngest Fenton's bedroom. The floor was clean and the carpet had been vacuumed; his ghost hunting equipment was neatly arranged on the top of the dresser; all of the weaponry that had been randomly hidden about the room was now in plain sight and within easy reach in case he wanted to grab it in a hurry.

"Yup. I knew it. Guess I'll just have to be careful this time and not get hurt."

Danny slowly got out of bed and stretched. He was in the middle of limbering up his sides in case he had to dodge in a weird way fast without transforming when his father kicked the door in.

"Hey, Danny!" the man boomed, "how do you like what I've done with your room? You were sleeping so soundly, I just decided to clean your room up for you! Who would have thought that you'd have so much ghost hunting equipment around here? Though I did take some of it down to the lab to be recalibrated. Why did you have the Ghost Gabber and the Fenton Finder under your bed? They don't work! They always activate around you! And you're not a ghost, right son? Right!"

"Actually, Dad, I am a ghost." _'It's worth a shot. It's worth a shot, and this is just some stupid fear my subconscious is tossing up…besides, I'd rather not get another mouthful of soggy ashes pretending to be fudge, and it's better to get it over with fast, anyway.'_

"Ha! That's really funny, Danny! Of course you're not a ghost! A ghost would lie and say that I was right, because ghosts always lie! Now, let's go downstairs and eat breakfast. I've got fudge! Lots and lots of fudge!"

"About breakfast," Danny said, thinking fast and dodging past his father and out the bedroom door, "I think I'll just have oatmeal. I'll make it myself. I mean, I _am_ a growing boy, and I'm not used to fudge for breakfast, and I don't want it weighing heavily on my stomach if a ghost attacks."

"Oh, that's all right, Danny! If a ghost attacks, _I'll_ protect you!"

"Er…" the boy paled slightly, trying to think his way out of this mess, "but if I have indigestion and you take care of the ghost, you won't get to see me fight!"

Jack thought about this as he walked into the kitchen to retrieve the fudge, apparently not noticing the ankle-deep green mist that swirled as he walked through it, moving away from his feet and clumping around his son's. Danny, intent on avoiding another disgusting mouthful of imaginary fudge, also failed to notice the mist.

"So…you do fight ghosts, then?" The orange-clad man asked as he got out a large container of homemade fudge.

"Only when you and Mom are somewhere else. Like if you were chasing the ghost kid at the mall and something attacked near home. And before you ask, I didn't tell you because I was trying to avoid a lecture and a well-intentioned but thoroughly embarrassing gift."

"I guess that makes sense. Are you sure you won't have any fudge?"

"Positive," the half ghost answered, focusing on not making a face or gagging on the damp ash smell wafting from the brown dessert. "I think fudge should be a once in a while treat, like for after a huge victory over the forces of the dead."

"You mean the forces of the undead, Danny."

"Ah, yeah. Forces of the undead. Silly of me to get those two mixed up," the undead teen stammered while getting out the oatmeal. It looked OK, it smelled OK, and a brief taste-test of one of the uncooked flakes while his father was not looking proved that it tasted OK, so the odds were that the oatmeal had not been tampered with.

"So, Danny, how come all of your ghost hunting equipment was in such inaccessible locations?"

"I didn't want any ghosts to find it. And it wasn't all that hard to get at." _'Especially since I can reach through my bed, not that I'm going to tell you that.'_ "Where's Mom and Jazz? They're not going to be happy that you kicked my bedroom door down."

"Oh, they went shopping. They're not going to be back for an hour or so. I know! After breakfast, we can fix your door! That way, your mother won't get mad at me, and we can do some father slash son bonding!"

"Yeah, sounds good," Danny sighed as the oatmeal cooked. _'Well, at least he hasn't figured me out and attacked me yet. I suppose this won't be such a bad dream after all…and maybe I can talk Dad into going fishing or something this weekend.'_

_Phantom Nightmare_

An hour later, Danny found himself helping his father put the door back on its hinges.

"Good thing these Fenton Doors ™ are designed to pop right off at the hinges and not break, in case of government raids and overexcited ghost hunters."

"Yeah, that is a good thing," the teenager smiled at his father before muttering, "man, how long is this stupid dream going to last?"

"What was that, son?"

"Nothing, nothing!"

Any further dangerous conversation was cut off when the door to Fenton Works opened, and a woman's voice called out "I'm home!"

"Maddie!" Jack shouted, dropping his screwdriver and rushing down the stairs to greet his wife.

"Mom," Danny whispered, blanching and trailing after his father to meet one of the most competent ghost hunters to ever shoot at him.

"How was your shopping trip, and where's Jazz? I've got something to tell her! Well, I'll tell you first, but it would be better if she were here, too."

"It was great, dear. We got a new microwave, and Jazz bought herself a new hair dryer. She's not here because she went with Sam and Tucker to do something or other. What did you want to tell me? Did you make a new invention?"

"No, better! I cleaned Danny's room!"

"Jack, dear, Danny is supposed to clean his own room. Aren't you, Danny?" the woman in blue directed a stern look to her son.

"I didn't ask him to, Mom! He did it while I was sleeping!"

"Yeah, and I found all sorts of ghost hunting equipment! Turns out that Danny's been hunting ghosts while we were busy!"

"Danny, why didn't you tell us? Don't you know that ghost hunting is dangerous? What if you'd underestimated your enemy and gotten hurt?"

"Mom! I'm fine! And I didn't want a four hour safety lecture."

"Well, I suppose I can't be too angry if you're following the family tradition after all. Now, if only we could get Jazz to hunt ghosts, too, we'd be a ghost hunting family! It sounds wonderful!" Maddie smiled. "Oh, and before I forget, the Guys in White gave me this ghost finding device. They said that it's been extensively tested, but it's too expensive to make and small-ranged to practically mass produce."

She pulled a hand-held tracking device out of her purse. It had a single button on it, and a three-inch by four-inch screen.

"All I have to do is push the on button, and it will scan the room for ghosts. It shows a picture of the ghost it finds on the screen, along with power level readouts. Look!" and before Danny could do anything to stop her, his mother pressed the button.

The machine beeped before the screen brightened. All three Fentons looked at it, two with excitement all over their faces, and one feeling sick to his stomach. The looks of child-like glee faded to confusion while the look of trepidation faded to grim expectation as a rotating image of Daniel Fenton appeared on the screen, along with the number 3.20 in bright red beside it.

Jack and Maddie slowly turned to look at their son.

Jack broke the silence first. "Danny, you're a ghost?"

"I did tell you," came the reply.

"Well, yeah, but I thought you were joking!"

"Why would I joke about something like that? I'm a ghost."

"You're a ghost," Maddie whispered, disbelief coloring her voice.

"Yeah," her son replied.

The unfortunate teen took a step back, unnoticed mist pooling around his feet as he did so, as his mother's face twisted itself into a mask of hatred.

"What have you done with my son?" she demanded.

"I am your son!" he cried desperately as the ghost hunters in front of him produced deceptively small ecto guns out of seemingly nowhere.

"You can't be my son, because MY SON IS NOT DEAD!" Jack thundered, taking aim.

The following fight was incredibly short and one sided, as all Danny did was dodge and try to make it to the door, while Jack took wild shots at him. Thirty seconds in, Maddie found an opening, and a burning blast struck the boy in the small of the back, causing him to crash to the floor, stunned.

_Phantom Nightmare_

(A/N)

I think you all know what is coming next, and if you don't, then you're not very good at pattern recognition, are you?


	12. Chapter 12

(A/N)

(A/N)

I'm sorry for the long wait. While I realize that this is a very weak excuse, and most of you aren't going to read it, I feel the need to say: AP classes take up way more time than I thought, especially when exams are coming up. I've had to write so much stuff for school that I've been all written out and couldn't write a decent chapter to save my life.

In light of the fact that I would prefer to wait for ages than to read something that wasn't at the author's best (ahem Rowling ahem), I thought that it would be best to wait a while before writing another chapter of Phantom Nightmare. Rejoice, for the long wait is over, and I have decided to pick this fic up from its unexpected hiatus.

_The Nightmare Has You_

**Phantom Nightmare Chapter the Twelfth**

_The Nightmare Has You_

Danny screamed and bolted upright. Then he winced and hissed as the burn on his back complained.

"Great, just great," he muttered under his breath. "It hurt, again, and I have trouble getting that herbal ointment Sam made for me on burns on my back. I'm flexible, but not _that_ flexible. Well, not in my human form. Guess I'll need help for this one."

Frowning, and walking slowly, even though his father snored and his mother wore earplugs to bed, Danny moved to the door. Before leaving his room, though, he glanced at the alarm clock.

3:30

"Well, at least I'm getting more and more rest out of these things. Who knows, maybe after I figure out how to get Mom to not shoot at me, I'll be able to get a full night's sleep."

The ghost hunting half ghost left his bedroom and went across the hall to his sisters, which he opened the door to, wincing when it squeaked.

"Jazz," he hissed, padding over to her bed. "Jazz, wake up," he continued, gently shaking her.

"Mmm?" the redhead asked sleepily, before looking up into her brother's glowing eyes. "Oh, Danny, what's the matter, did you have another nightmare?"

"Box ghost, Valerie, blaster, my back. Could you give me a hand? I'm burned in a hard-to-reach spot."

"Sure thing, baby bro. Just let me get up, and I'll rub ointment on your burn."

The siblings went through the much-rehearsed ritual of Jazz patching up her brother's ghost related injuries, and the elder of the two went back to bed. Danny returned to his own room, lay down, and closed his eyes. Sleep, however, remained elusive.

_The Nightmare Has You_

Morning came slowly, much to Danny's disappointment, and he turned of the alarm before it went off. The undead teen dressed in his usual attire, since the cut on his arm had healed and his short sleeves would reveal no bandages, and headed down to breakfast.

"Good morning, Mom, Dad," he called as he entered the kitchen. Oddly, there were no partially assembled anti-ghost weapons on the table as the Fenton family ate breakfast, so Danny sat down to join them.

"Good morning, sweetie. Are you feeling better? You said you weren't hungry the other day."

"Well, I'm hungry now," he smiled, helping himself to some softly glowing scrambled eggs with luminescent ham.

"That's good, Danny, that's very good!" Jack boomed. "After all, you can't possibly hope to grow into a big, strong ghost hunter like your old man if you don't eat breakfast every day! And fudge! Lots and lots of fudge! Speaking of fudge, do you want some?"

"Ah, no thanks, Dad. I don't really want any fudge today, and I'd better be going. I don't want to be late for school."

"School's just a waste of time, son. Good thing it's Friday! After today, you'll have the whole weekend to do what teenagers _should_ do; hang out with your friends, and then decide you wanna fight ghosts like your old man!"

_Right,_ Danny thought, as he grabbed his bag and raced out the door.

_The Nightmare Has You_

School was uneventful, but the rest garnered from the unusually restful nightmare only lasted so long. By lunch, the hero was beginning to doze on his feet.

"Danny, I can't believe you almost fell asleep in your locker after Dash shoved you in," Sam chuckled.

"Yeah, dude, I know you don't get much sleep, but that's pushing it," Tucker added.

"You don't have to rub it in. I had another nightmare last night and I couldn't get back to sleep afterward."

"Well, look on the bright side. It's Friday. Two more classes, and you can go home and take a nap," the vegan pointed out just before the bell rang to herd the reluctant teens to fifth period.

_The Nightmare Has You_

Mr. Lancer glanced up as his fifth period history class filed in. _At least Mr. Fenton and his friends are on time. They all seemed awake in first period, so logic states that they still should be._

Alas, logic turned out to be wrong. Ten minutes into the class, Daniel Fenton was sound asleep, and not the ruler of wakefulness, his friends shouting "Ghost!" into his ear in panicked sounding stereo, or Dash Baxter flicking spitballs into his hair could rouse him.

_The Nightmare Has You_

(A/N)

Well, now I have to update again soon. I'm kinda looking forward to what kind of horrible dream I come up with this time.


	13. Chapter 13

(A/N)

(A/N)

As I type this, I am sitting in an airport terminal many, many miles and several states from home. My only consolation is that the outside air is some 10-15 degrees F cooler than the air around my house. So, it should be on par with the air in my house…just more humid…

I really don't like the Midwest much…

Sorry I took so long. Between getting my ears pierced, Finals, and some rather hasty helping around the house after our AC went out (I live in Southern California, it's hot enough to KILL out there…actually, if you don't get enough water, it's hot enough to kill in my house). I think you can understand why I didn't want to sit around in 95-degree air (no weather, the weather was triple digits, it was 95 in my house) and type on an old laptop that overheats.

And now, as you know, Danny Phantom is not mine and never will be.

_Enter the Nightmare_

**Chapter the Thirteenth**

_Enter the Nightmare_

Danny sighed and rolled over in his bed. The covers were soft and comfortable and warm, and to judge by the angle of the sunbeams hitting his face, it was around noon. Lazily, he opened his eyes and watched the dust motes drift and glow in the rays of light coming in through the window. Sighing, the young ghost hunter closed his eyes again.

"Not only is it a school day," he sighed, "I think I fell asleep in Lancer's class. I hope I don't start bleeding somewhere really visible this time. Maybe I can blame it on ghosts…" _Well, the sooner I get this over with, the sooner I can wake up._

Blue eyes opened to observe the youngest Fenton's bedroom. The floor was clean and the carpet had been vacuumed; his ghost hunting equipment was neatly arranged on the top of the dresser; all of the weaponry that had been randomly hidden about the room was now in plain sight and within easy reach in case he wanted to grab it in a hurry.

"Of course. Just like last time, and the time before that," the teenager muttered, rolling out of bed and hastily dressing himself in his most flexible outfit, a hideous, day-glow orange jogging suit that his father had bought for him as a birthday present. He was just stretching his legs in case he had to jump off the walls and ceiling when Jack burst in.

"Hey, Danny!" the man boomed, "how do you like what I've done with your room? You were sleeping so soundly, I just decided to clean your room up for you! Who would have thought that you'd have so much ghost hunting equipment around here? Though I did take some of it down to the lab to be recalibrated. Why did you have the Ghost Gabber and the Fenton Finder under your bed? They don't work! They always activate around you! And you're not a ghost, right son? Right!"

"Actually, Dad, I am a ghost," the boy replied. _Well, it worked last time. I just hope I don't have to wait as long for Mom to show up this time. Maybe I can take a grazing blow to the shoulder or something…nah, I'm never that lucky. I'll just have to blame it on ghosts and put up with whatever my REAL parents decide to do to me in the lab to keep it from happening again. Joy._

"Ha! That's really funny, Danny! Of course you're not a ghost! A ghost would lie and say that I was right, because ghosts always lie! Now, let's go downstairs and eat breakfast. I've got fudge! Lots and lots of fudge!"

"Fine," the half ghost said, dodging his father's grasp, "but I really _am_ a ghost, Dad. It wasn't a joke."

"Sure, Danny. OK, I believe you, you're a ghost," Jack chuckled, heading to the kitchen. "Now come on and eat some fudge with me."

"OK," the young hunter smiled, following his father. _How can I convince him that I'm a ghost? The first time he found out, it went OK…I just can't tell him WHICH ghost._

_Phantom Nightmare_

Upon reaching the kitchen, Jack pulled out the fudge. As before, the smell of damp ashes washed over Danny. This time, though, remembering that he had fallen asleep in class, and determined to wake up with minimal injury, he did not suppress his reaction to the odor.

"Dad, I think there might be something wrong with the fudge."

"What do you mean, Dan-o? It looks fine to me!"

"Well, it smells like wet ashes," the undead teen complained, walking closer. "Tastes like it, too," he continued, after taking a piece, popping it into his mouth, and spitting it back out.

There was a crash as Jack dropped the fudge and pulled an ecto-gun out of seemingly nowhere.

"What have you done with my son, ghost?" the man roared, pointing the weapon at his son.

"I AM your son. And I just TOLD you that I'm a ghost! Weren't you listening?" the younger hunter exclaimed, exasperated and seemingly unconcerned about the weapon pointed at his chest. If he was injured there, it was unlikely that anyone would notice.

"Yeah, but, I thought you were joking! And you can't be my son AND a ghost, because my son isn't dead!"

"Sure I am. I just lied about it."

"Well…ghosts DO always lie," Jack agreed, gun wavering. "But why'd you decide to tell the truth NOW?"

"Dad, you found the ghost hunting equipment I hid in my room. Mom and Jazz obviously aren't home, or they'd have yelled at you for kicking my door down. It seemed like the perfect time to tell you that I died in my accident with the Fenton Ghost Portal."

"Died? But…son, you said you'd only gotten a bit of a shock…"

"Yeah. I wasn't about to tell Amity Park's two top ghost hunters that I was a ghost! I wouldn't have said anything, but just staying here is starting to look more dangerous that having you and Mom shoot at me! The TOASTER attacks me on a regular basis, and if I do anything, the security system locks onto me!" As he ranted, Danny walked forward, too worked up in expressing himself to even care that he was walking closer to an upset, confused ghost hunter holding a lethal weapon.

Jack dropped the ecto-gun to the floor as his son's eyes began to glow a violent green. The portly ghost hunter backed up, his face ashen. Neither of them noticed an ankle deep, green mist creep into the kitchen.

"You…you really are a ghost, aren't you…"

"Yeah, is something about that hard to believe?"

"I…my inventions worked after all, didn't they? The Ghost Gabber ™, the Booomerang ™, the Fenton Finder ™…none of them were malfunctioning when they locked in on you. My only son's been dead for over a year, and I never noticed!" the man started quietly, but worked his way up to a sobbing wail, before he collapsed on his son, sniffling.

Danny winced and trembled with the effort of holding up his massive father. The only reason he didn't simply crumple under the pressure being his supernatural strength, which he allowed to leak into his human form.

"It's OK, Dad. I went out of my way to hide it from you," he murmured, guiding his father to the couch where the man flopped down.

"But, but all ghosts are evil, and you're my son, but you're a ghost, so are you evil?"

"No, Dad. I'm still me. I'm still the same me that I was before the accident."

"Hm. Well, since you're a ghost, but you're still a Fenton, does that mean you'll tell me about ghosts?"

"Sure, what do you want to know?" Danny smiled. _This may only be a dream, but it's hardly a nightmare anymore! Who cares about English? I may actually get some rest this time._

_Enter the Nightmare_

The next hour passed swiftly, with Jack asking questions and Danny answering them. A quick, painless scan showed that the young half-ghost ranked a 3.20 on the GIW 10-point scale, practically powerless.

The two were so wrapped up in their Q and A session that they failed to notice that Maddie was home until she burst into the lab, looking furious.

"Jack Fenton! I can't believe you kicked our son's door in—again! There are bits of wall in the hall, and you don't even clean up! I find the two of you down here, in the lab, instead, doing I don't know what!"

"Maddie, sweetie, calm down! We can clean up later, but I found out something absolutely amazing!"

"What? What could possibly be so amazing that I won't care that you made another mess, Jack Fenton?"

"Danny's a ghost."

"WHAT?!" Maddie exclaimed, before grabbing the nearest lethal weapon she could get her hands on and leveling it at her son.

"Uh, mom? Do you think you could calm down a little?"

"Oh, right," the woman in the teal jump suit muttered, blushing. "Jack, that wasn't funny."

"It wasn't a joke, sweetie. He's a ghost! He died in his accident with the portal and never told us. I scanned him, and he's a 3.20! I think that a ghost's evilness might be the same as it's power, and a class 3.20 isn't powerful enough to do much more than wreck the Ghost Gabber ™, so Danny can't be very evil."

"I'm not evil _at all_," Danny grumbled, low enough that the hunters couldn't hear him. He then found himself being mostly ignored while his father filled his mother in on everything that he had learned, from tidbits about the social hierarchy in the Ghost Zone to information in individual ghosts, like Skulker and Technus.

_Enter the Nightmare_

After Maddie asked her son if he actually needed to eat and found out that the answer was "yeah, unless I _want_ to start feeding off of human emotions" the conversation moved back up into the kitchen.

As Danny was working his way through his second plate of leftovers, the door opened and Jazz walked in, looking smug in that way she did whenever she learned something new about ghosts and couldn't wait to tell her brother.

"Jazzy pants! Guess what we found out today!" Jack exclaimed, leaping out of his chair in his haste to tell his daughter the news.

"If it's another way to defeat ghosts using their own slime, I'll skip the demonstration. Hey, Danny! I need to talk to you!"

"Talking to your brother can wait, dear," Maddie smiled. "Come and sit down. This is amazing!"

"What is?" Jazz now looked somewhat confused.

"Danny's a ghost! It's OK, though, he's not very powerful, so he's not evil in the least," her father told her.

"What?" the psychologist-to-be looked at her undead brother thoughtfully. Then she scowled in a way that promised agony. "You're not my brother," she growled. Before anyone could stop her, she pulled a Fenton Utility Weapon ™ out of her purse and shot her sibling in the chest.

_Enter the Nightmare_

(A/N)

I really should stop procrastinating over this thing. So, did anyone think that something important would happen in Chapter 13?

Also, I apologize for the extreem tardiness. This was done _over two months ago_, and I haven't been able to post it because of a combination of crashing computer and missing ram stick. The computer still crashes, but I found my ram stick, so I'm using the other computer to post it. I hope you all enjoy!


End file.
